'How are the engines doing, Scottie?' 'She can handle it.' 'Excellent. Beam us down to this forsaken planet of apes, and let us meet the Labori.'

'Aye, Cap'n', and soon the space travellers are drinking tea in what Captain Berk was to describe later in his log as 'a den of thieves and harlots', or what others call 'Number 10, Downing Street'.

'Mr. Spark, any evidence of intelligent life forms here?' 'Negative, Captain.' 'Bones, pass me an expenses form, I need to claim back the fuel we used on our trip from the Galaxy Fund.'

Then one of the green, slimy Labori came into the room. 'Greetingsss', it hissed, 'have you come about buying a ssseat in the Houssse of Lordsss?' 'No', Captain Berk replied, 'we seek the two monsters rumored to live near here, the Hazy and the Jaki.'

'They have long departed, I had no further ussssse for them.' 'What about a Klark or a Prezza?' 'Gone, alssso.' 'Er, any Tones, or even a Hazza?' 'No. There'sss only me left here.'

'Oh. Well, our mission seems to be doomed, then', as Radiohead started playing again in the background, 'and turn that bloody music off! Scotty', the Captain said into his tin can and string, 'beam us up again, only one repulsive lizard here, no sign of a Hazy or a Jaki.'

'Don't let the credits start rolling, Mr. Spark! We've still to have the they-all-lived-happily-ever-after ending!'

'Illogical, Captain, the European Elections are about to wipe out the Labori and us too, if we don't get off this planet', and tragically the credits began rolling, but not before Mr. Spark had used his Vulcan X grip to wipe out the last member of the species Labori